


you're in my head (you're in my blood)

by letsgetalittleseethrough



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Asexual Elsa (Disney), F/F, Strangers to Lovers, singer songwriter elsa, songwriter honeymaren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24320959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgetalittleseethrough/pseuds/letsgetalittleseethrough
Summary: “You want success, yes? Then quit writing about fjords and being a kid and making snowmen - why don’t you try, I don’t know, an album about love?”“Love?”Sometimes, Elsa wasn’t even sure she knew what that was.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from About Love by Marina :))

“Elsa?”

Elsa looked up from her lap, trying to not bite her lip to shreds, or tear at the hangnail on her thumb. “Yes?”

The manager of Vuelie records looked down at her with weary, disappointed eyes. Elsa lowered her own eyes once more. 

“Elsa… I can see you’ve worked very hard on this album. Very hard. It’s just… how do I put this?” 

Her eyes flickered up to meet his once more, but she couldn’t maintain it. 

“You want success, yes?”

She nodded, barely perceptible.

“Then… look, quit writing about fjords and being a kid and making snowmen - why don’t you try, I don’t know, an album about love?”

“Love?” 

Sometimes, Elsa wasn’t even sure she knew what that was. She looked at him, as if the answer to that would be in his face. 

He was nodding emphatically. “Yes, an album about love. All the romantic lovesick crap. And then I’m thinking… I’m thinking a collab with Flynn Rider, getting you booked into some larger venues-”  
  


“But I don’t want-” 

“ _Elsa_.” 

Her thumb was bleeding. She tried to wipe the blood off onto her (thankfully black) leggings. 

“Look. You definitely have your own style, no one’s disputing that. You’re like early era Taylor Swift... if Taylor didn’t constantly write about boys. But… I’m sure you know yourself how sales are doing…” 

She couldn’t answer. He folded his hands on the top of his desk. 

“I have a suggestion, and I’d like it if you’d take it. We have a new writer on the books, her name is Maren, and I think you two could really-”  
  


“You want me to _co-write?_ ” 

He blinked, frowned. “There’s no shame in that, you know that. I’ve suggested Maren specifically because I think she has just the right kind of ‘zing’ to her… Here’s a CD of her most recent work.” He slid it across the desk, and she took it, hiding her thumb in the palm of her hand. “Just… consider it, would you?”

She nodded, and the conversation was over. 

\---

“ _Sooooo_ ….?”

  
Elsa sighed into the phone. “He didn’t like it, Anna.” 

“ _What?_ How could he not like it?! I’m going to head down there and give that man a piece of my mind…” 

Despite herself, Elsa smiled. Anna always had a way of cheering her up. “He thinks I need to… change direction. Get a co-writer.” 

Anna blew a raspberry down the phone, making Elsa laugh. Then there was a pause, and Anna’s pauses always worried Elsa- 

“Maybe you should switch to a different label?” 

Elsa sucked in a breath. Vuelie records had been so good to her, so patient, and she was about to tell Anna this-

But today’s meeting had proved that that patience was wearing thin. They wanted success, not just talent. 

“Who else would take me?”

A squeak of indignation. “Who _wouldn’t_ take you, Elsa? You got a glowing review-”   
  


“-from our _local paper_ , Anna-”

“-and- and you just keep getting better and better! Everyone would want you!” 

Elsa smiled sadly to herself. Anna’s optimism was breathtaking sometimes. 

“I’ve got to go, Anna.” It was half true - she did have Maren’s album to listen to. 

“Byeee! You’ll show him, Elsa! You’ll show him!” 

And Elsa thought, _will I?_

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

She’d never meant to be a singer - as in, Be A Singer. It had always just been a “singing in her bedroom, hoping none of her family would hear her” type thing. A hobby. A secret. 

Turns out her family did notice, though, Anna especially (Anna, who oh-so-helpfully signed her up to a New Young Talent competition, telling her two weeks before.) 

She couldn’t blame her sister for that - really, she owed her one, because it was that competition that got her noticed by Vuelie Records. A lucky break. At the time of the competition she was working in her local library, summoning every ounce of courage whenever she had to answer the phone and doing her best to stay out of the way of the public. Then she took part, came third, and the rest, they say, is history. 

Some of her fans like the “allure” of her Twitter and Instagram accounts being run by Anna. (Elsa had offered to pay her for the role, but she’d’ve had better luck turning herself into a rapper.) And it worked, for the most part. Anna did all the chipper cheery “thanks for coming tonight xo” and the artsy photos (where Elsa was always in shadow, Elsa’s instructions), did just enough to make her have an online presence and keep the label happy. 

But this morning Elsa was lying in bed reflecting that no, right now, the label weren’t happy. A collaboration with Flynn Rider… She shuddered. It was nothing personal, but he was like, on track for Justin Bieber levels of fame (which was, she reflected, likely exactly why he’d been suggested.) Some of his fans would inevitably try and find out more about her if she did work with him, and she enjoyed the level of almost complete anonymity her current level of success afforded her. Plus, people might… think they were dating. 

Dating. A big, big, scary word, dating. 

She shook herself out her thoughts, got out of bed, went and washed her face before going into the kitchen for some breakfast. The mornings were prime writing time - she’d get a couple of hours in before lunch. And she’d hoped that this morning, there would have been yesterday’s green light on the album, and all that would be necessary was making some necessary tweaks and edits. 

No dice. She sighed at the toaster. The label wanted that album scrapped - and she’d worked so hard! 

From the lounge, her phone vibrated. She got to it just as the toaster pinged - Anna. 

_you could always release it for free? put it on youtube?_

She put her phone down and went back to her toast, mulling her sister’s message over. It’d get her in bad water with Vuelie, most likely. But to just completely shelve what she thought was her best work… 

“ _An album about love. All the romantic lovesick crap._ ”

It wasn’t her, it just wasn’t. And to write about romantic love… She didn’t want to come out, but she didn’t want to live a lie either. That was why the fjords and the snowmen were so easy to write about. You weren’t prejudiced against a song about childhood winters. You could be, about a song about a woman in love with another woman. 

And even that was only half of it, as much as she’d’ve loved for it to be the whole story. In the past couple of years she’d come to realise that “lesbian” wasn’t the only label that fitted - “asexual” did too. 

Sometimes, that label made her feel incredibly lonely. 

Her toast was finished. She poured a glass of orange juice, drank it, hovered there with a glass for a moment. 

TV boxsets. That was what she needed. 

Halfway through The Office her phone vibrated again - Vuelie’s manager. 

_have you thought about it?_

She froze, staring at the message. Then, trying to quieten down the sudden panic, she turned her phone off. 

She’d deal with it another day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm the-best-of-what-we-had-youknow on tumblr if you wanna say hi! :))


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the lyrics in this chapter I suggest listening to The Amazing Devil's The Horror and the Wild if you want an idea of what the music would sound like (it's also just a GREAT song) :))

"Anna? Is everything OK?" 

Elsa tried to blink herself awake. Her alarm clock read 03:14. 

"What would you say to chocolate cake?" 

Elsa blinked again, this time in confusion. "Chocolate cake?" 

"Yeah! You know, as a pick-me-up!" 

A memory resurfaced of the fateful time Anna had decided to flaunt all postal rules and mail her said cake: it hadn't been pretty. 

"You really don't have to-" A more appropriate question came to mind: "You rang me to ask about _chocolate cake?_ Anna, it's 3 in the morning-" 

She had to press the phone closer to her ear to make any sense of the babbling that followed: "Well, I'd set the alarm for 6, but then I thought you might want some cake, and if you do and I start now I should have it all iced to be on time, or even get a head start!" 

Elsa stifled a yawn. "A head start on wha-" 

"God, it sucks sometimes that you live so far away, but I'm sure the drive will be fine at this time of day - hey, that rhymed!" 

Realisation dawned. "You're _coming to visit?_ " 

Anna was only silent for a second. "Well, yeah! You had some bad news, I'm gonna come and cheer you up!" 

"Thanks, Anna," Elsa managed after a moment. "Are you sure the drive will be OK?" 

Anna made a "Pfft" noise. "I could do it in my sleep!" 

Elsa bit at another hangnail. Anna sighed. 

"That was a joke, Elsa. Anyway - gotta go! See you in time for dinner! We could go to that Italian place?" 

"Sure. Bye, Anna. Thank you for-" 

Anna hung up. Elsa put the phone down and tried to go back to sleep. 

\--- 

At 5AM, she admitted defeat, turning on her bedside lamp with a big yawn. It'd be OK - she could try and take a nap before Anna arrived. But what to do? She felt so aimless now that the album had been rejected. It had been her life for the past 10 months, and now… 

Her eyes fell on the CD Vuelie's manager had given her, lying on her desk. Who was it by again - someone called Maren? 

_I can take one listen and tell him she's not for me,_ she thought. _Get it over with_. 

\--- 

The first thing she noticed were the violins, frantic and urgent. It was the sort of music that transported you to a fantasy realm - that was how it felt to her, anyway. Her finger had been hovering over the "eject" button on her laptop, but now she let it drop. The violins continued for a few more seconds, and then a voice (Maren's, she assumed) rang out: 

_my heart's a tree, and your chainsaw is revving_

_I'm chained to the trunk, but I won't be begging_

_oh no, no no - I won't be begging, oh no_

_you ruined my environment_

_you polluted my blood_

_you ransacked my land, called it yours, declared it "good"_

_and it is not in my nature to attack back_

_no, that is not my nature_

_and I hope you grow as my heart will do, as soon as I let you go_

_I'm leaving now, you're not allowed to follow_

_you were a flower crown made of thorns_

_I got drawn in and you drew your sword_

_soon as you got bored, soon as you got bored of me_

_but I will rejuvenate, I will rise again_

_so hang your head, gardener, to me you are dead-_

Elsa pressed pause, her mind whirring. 

It was a love song - well, a breakup song - undoubtedly. And yet - and yet it was just so- 

Her phone was in her hand before she could talk herself out of it. _I'll try one session with Mare_ n, she typed, and sent. Then she stared at her laptop, pressed play, and listened to the whole CD again and again. 

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!

“I can’t _believe_ him,” Anna said for the fifty-sixth time, through a mouthful of spaghetti. “For the record, I loved Every. Single-” (those two words were punctuated by the stabbing of her fork into the rest of the spaghetti, and Elsa pictured them capitalized) “-song on that record, OK? Every. Single. One.” She swallowed the mouthful of food with a disgruntled look at the wall across from her. 

Elsa swirled her own spaghetti round on her plate. “Thank you, Anna. But he…” She sighed. “He knows what sells. Sometimes it just comes down to that.” 

Throwing her hands in the air, Anna huffed. “You would’ve sold! You would’ve sold millions!” 

Elsa had to hide her smile. “Maybe if you very kindly went bankrupt trying to buy a million copies-”

“I’d do it!” Anna declared, leaning forward and getting her hair in her food and not looking like she was joking in the slightest. “You have _talent_ , Elsa. Real talent.” A pause. “You said Maren’s got it too?” That was said in a wary tone, as if Anna didn’t believe it was possible for anyone else to have any. 

Finally, Elsa had a mouthful of her dinner, and then said, “Anna, she’s _brilliant_.” 

Anna softened. “What sort of stuff does she write about?” 

“Well, she sort of has this kind of ‘folklore’ sort of style, Folk Rock, I guess, and she uses all these metaphors and imagery and it’s like a story, Anna, you get so drawn in, it’s magical-”

Smiling patiently, Anna said, “And she writes about _what_ , though?”

“She writes about love,” Elsa told her spaghetti. “I was thinking… I don’t know.” She sighed, felt her shoulders droop. “I don’t know how it’ll work. What she writes is wonderful, maybe if she did _all_ the writing and I just did the _singing_ -”

A hand was on her shoulder. Elsa still didn’t look at her sister, in case it was on the tip of Anna’s tongue to ask something like, “Have you ever been in love?” or something she really, really was not going to answer. “Anyway…” She risked eye contact. Anna was looking at her a little sadly. 

“It’ll work out,” Anna said gently. “I know it will! Now, how about we go back to yours and eat too much cake?”

\---

Elsa’s alarm clock read 23:57. Anna was asleep on the sofa, and Elsa knew everything seemed a little better after some rest, but her mind was heavy. What if Maren wanted her to write about times where she’d been in love? Experience could be a great muse. 

At 24, most people would surely have a string of faces to think of when asked to write about being in love. Elsa had read about limerence before, about having obsessive romantic thoughts and fantasies about another person, but that wasn’t exactly love. Could you really love someone, if they were so far away from knowing you existed that you could disappear and they wouldn’t even notice?  
  


She thought that love, real love, meant knowledge of the person you loved. All the women Elsa had loved from afar - she probably couldn’t count on two hands all that she knew about them. Her brain had filled in the gaps, and that was limerence, but _love?_

She grabbed her notebook, the one she always kept next to her bed, but paused. It was full of lyrics from the last album, and it didn’t feel right to start something new in the same book. As quietly as she could, she got out of bed and found a blank notebook. 

No one said she couldn’t write about not knowing what love was. 

  


  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is nothing but angsty lyrics. Sorry for the wait.

_ it started raining in my house one day  _

_ I thought that rain would never ever go away  _

_ but a few raindrops isn't a true flood _

_ will I ever know what they're talking of?  _

_ is it even in my blood,  _

_ to love?  _

_ is it layers of repression that are holding me back?  _

_ have I built my own dam and damned myself?  _

_ is it something wrong with me that I've never felt like that?  _

_ are these just the cards that I've been dealt? _

_ I want a torrent of rain but I think I'm too cold for it  _

_ they used to call me the "ice queen", I tried so hard to ignore it  _

_ and now I'm not even sure that it's in my blood, _

_ to love  _

_ it started raining and everybody had a boat _

_ I want to drown in love, but still I stay afloat  _

_ I'm the queen of isolation, I've got my own storm cloud  _

_ a moat for my castle's the only water I'm allowed  _

_ I don't want to float  _

_ are these just the cards that I've been dealt?  _

_ I don't want to lose hope _

_ why isn't love something that I've felt?  _

_ I don't want to float  _

_ are these just the cards that I've been dealt?  _

_ I don't want to lose hope _

_ why isn't love something that I've felt?  _

_ tell me, tell me _

_ is this normal?  _

_ just tell it to me straight, please  _

_ am I normal?  _

\---

It was past midnight. Tomorrow - no,  _ today _ \- she’d meet Maren, and these lyrics would be scrutinised, torn apart, stitched back together with words that weren’t her own. 

Still, she smiled. It captured how she felt. It was enough. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a little swearing here, as a heads up if that bothers anyone! 
> 
> thank you to everyone who's stuck with me through some *very* sporadic updates. Ravrav, this one's for you <33

Sometimes it feels like she just writes to escape who she is. 

Because, because once upon a time Elsa had a friend, and then she didn’t. Years of friendship over in the click of her fingers, all because Elsa had dared open up to her. 

Elsa doesn’t do much opening up anymore, unless you count via her diary - and can you really open up to yourself? 

(You can definitely hide from yourself, she knows that much.) 

She sits on the sofa with I-woke-up-at-5am eyes, sips on a mug of tea, and Considers. Considers, just for once, writing about being asexual. Maybe it’d be cathartic. 

\---

_ shards of my heart reflect the break like a mirror  _

_ you ran from me because I couldn’t be forgiven _

_ for not being like you, or him, or her _

_ you championed diversity but kicked me to the curb  _

_ so I’d prefer it if love kept its clothes on _

_ so what? it doesn’t mean I don’t dream of being warm  _

_ where the warmth comes from an embrace, but let’s face it,  _

_ who’d agree, to be in a relationship when she doesn’t  _

_ want to fuck with liberty? _

_ just walk a mile or five steps in my shoes  _

_ and then maybe you’ll see that-  _

She puts the pen down, heart heavy. This hasn’t helped at all. This really hasn’t helped at all-  __


End file.
